IN spite of the continual and severe cannonading of the artillery
we succeeded in fetching away the two dead soldiers and bringing
them on land. The bridge had been much damaged so that we could
do nothing but replace the ruined pontoons by new ones. When the
firing of the artillery had died down somewhat we began the difficult
task for the second time. But we had scarcely begun when another
salvo found its mark and damaged the bridge severely; fortunately
no losses were inflicted upon us that time. We were now ordered
to retire, only to begin afresh after half an hour.

The enemy's searchlights had been extinguished, and we were
able to take some ten pontoons into line without being molested.
Then, suddenly, we were again overwhelmed by the fire of the artillery;
the enemy's patrols had noticed us. Several batteries had opened
fire on us at the same time, and in ten minutes' time all our
work was nothing but a heap of sinking pontoons; twelve men were
killed.

We now were ordered to march away. Only eight of our party
were left behind to look after the dead and wounded. We set out
to get out of the danger zone. After having marched up-stream
for a distance of about a mile and a quarter we halted and observed
that the bridge-building section of the army corps was present
again. We were told that we should complete the individual links
of the bridge on land. Those bridge-links, consisting each of
two pontoons, were firmly tied together, provided with anchors
and all accessories, completed on land, and then let down into
the water. The site of the bridge, which had meanwhile been determined
upon, was made known to us, and we rowed with all our might down
the river towards that spot.

Our opponent, who had gained no knowledge of that ruse, did
not molest us, and in quick succession all the bridge-links reached
the determined place. The various links were rowed into their
proper position with tremendous speed, and joined together. It
did not take quite twenty minutes to get everything just. sufficiently
in shape. The infantry, who had kept in readiness, then rushed
across the bridge which had been thickly strewn with straw so
as to deaden the noise.

At the same time we had begun to cross the river by pontoon
at various points, and before the French were properly aware of
what was going on, the other side of the river had been occupied
by our troops and was soon firmly held by them.

The French artillery and infantry now began to pour a terrific
fire on the pontoons. We, the sappers, who were occupying the
pontoons of the bridge, were now for the greater part relieved
and replaced by infantry, but were distributed among the rowing
pontoons to serve as crews. I was placed at the helm of one of
the pontoons. With four sappers at the oars and eighteen infantrymen
as our passengers we began our first trip in an infernal rain
of missiles. We were lucky enough to reach the other side of the
river with only one slightly wounded sapper. I relieved that man,
who then took the steering part. On the return trip our pontoon
was hit by some rifle bullets, but happily only above the water-line.
To our right and left the pontoons were crossing the river, some
of them in a sinking condition.

The sappers, who are all able to swim, sought to reach the
bank of the river and simply jumped into the water, whilst the
infantrymen were drowned in crowds. Having landed and manned another
pontoon we pushed off once more and, pulling the oars through
the water with superhuman strength, we made the trip a second
time. That time we reached the other side with two dead men and
a wounded infantryman. We had not yet reached the other side when
all the infantry jumped into the shallow water and waded ashore.
We turned our boat to row back with the two dead men on board.
Our hands began to hurt much from the continual rowing and were
soon covered with blisters and blood blisters. Still, we had to
row, however much our hands might swell and hurt; there was no
resting on your oars then.

We were about twenty yards from shore when our pontoon was
hit below the water-line by several rifle bullets at the same
time. A shot entering a pontoon leaves a hole no bigger that the
shot itself, but its exit on the other side of the pontoon may
be as big as a fist or a plate. Our pontoon then began to sink
rapidly so that we sappers had no choice but to jump into the
icy water. Scarcely had we left the boat when it disappeared;
but all of us reached the river-bank safely. We were saved---for
the moment. In spite of our wet clothes we had to man another
boat immediately, and without properly regaining breath we placed
our torn hands again on the oars.

We had scarcely reached the middle of the river when we collided
with another boat. That other boat, which had lost her helmsman,
and two oarsmen, rammed us with such force that our pontoon turned
turtle immediately and took down with her all the eighteen infantrymen
besides one of the sappers. Four of us saved ourselves in another
pontoon and, thoroughly wet, we steered her to the left bank.
We had just landed when we were commanded to bring over a pontoon
laden with ammunition, and the "joy-ride " was renewed.
We crossed the Meuse about another five times after that.

Meanwhile day had come. On the left bank a terrible fight had
begun between the German troops that had been landed, and the
French. The Germans enjoyed the advantage that they were no longer
exposed to the French artillery.

We got a short rest, and lay wet to the skin in an old trench
shivering all over with cold. Our hands were swollen to more than
double their ordinary size; they hurt us so much that we could
not even lift our water-bottle to our mouths. It must have been
a harrowing sight to watch us young, strong fellows lying on the
ground helpless and broken.